


Adloquium

by magickus



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Haurchefant Greystone Lives, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Kinda, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Past Character Death, Praise Kink, Self-Indulgent, Size Difference, Smut, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickus/pseuds/magickus
Summary: A reoccurring night terror continues to plague the Warrior of Light. One leads to a confrontation he would rather not have.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Comments: 3
Kudos: 177





	Adloquium

**Author's Note:**

> alt summary: haurchy talks some sense into a dumb emo twink. with his dick
> 
> i haven't written/published anything in a very long time, let alone smut, but after crying over haurchefant for the 100th time this had to be done for my own sake. so enjoy this self-indulgent cryfest
> 
> claran is mine

Claran surfaced from his dream through the thick scent of blood. He bolted upright in his bed, gasping for air, his mind still addled from sleep. Warm, sticky fluid coated his hands. He looked down and saw red stained up to his elbows, smearing across his skin when he tried to scrub it away. His skull throbbed and his vision shook. Flashes of bright, painful light appeared in the dark when he blinked.

He rolled himself out of bed and crashed onto his knees. The pain grounded him, steadied his whirlwind thoughts. He lifted his hands and the red was gone, replaced by familiar brown. They were clean.

He slumped back against the side of his bed. He ran a hand through his already messy white hair, trying and failing to work out the tangles. His skin was clammy and his shirt clung to his back with sweat. He shivered. The fire in the hearth had long since dimmed to embers, and outside of his blankets the night air of Ishgard was frigid against his damp skin. He peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. He didn’t have the willpower to make it to the laundry basket.

He glanced out his window. The sky was still pitch black, the stars and moon hidden behind a thick cover of clouds. Still late, then, though there was no feasible way he could go back to sleep. Not after  _ that _ dream. It was fine. He was used to sleepless nights by now.

Claran sighed. He pulled his knees against his chest, pillowing his head on his arms. He forced back the tears stinging his eyes. He hated that dream. Every time it occurred was worse than the last. It lingered even after he woke, this time. He could still feel the warmth spilling against his hands, draining out of him no matter how  _ desperately _ Claran fought to keep him whole.

In the end, it wasn’t enough. Claran failed when it mattered most, let his life slip through his fingers. 

Someone knocked at his door. His shoulders hunched. Was he too loud? Those night terrors usually left him screaming. It was probably a steward checking to make sure he wasn’t being murdered in his sleep— again. “A-A moment,” Claran called. He grabbed the side of his bed and hauled himself to his feet, willing his legs to stop shaking and bear his weight. He managed to stumble like a newborn fawn across his room and pull on a fresh shirt before he opened the door.

A ghost stood in his doorway. 

Of course the subject of his night terrors would be the one to check on him. Haurchefant smiled down at him, still cheerful, like nothing was wrong.

Nothing  _ was _ wrong by definition. No one knew how he managed to survive. He was dead when they returned to the manor, then alive the next. Enough strange things happened in Claran’s life daily and he learned long ago not to question a blessing when it came. The chirurgeons managed to bring him to stable condition.

Claran was happy to see him hale and whole, but the memory still brought that ache in his chest.

“Is aught amiss?” Haurchefant asked. Claran had to look away before Haurchefant realized he was gaping like a fish.

“No,” he said, a little too curtly, but Haurchefant took it all in stride.

“I heard worrisome noises,” he explained. “Forgive me for intruding, especially at such a late hour, but I had to check on you.”

Claran stole a brief glance, out of the corner of his eye. Haurchefant caught him and brightened. His gaze snapped back to the door-frame. “I’m fine,” he said. “Really. Just…” He swallowed. “Just a nightmare. Thank you for your concern.”

Silence. Claran picked at a splinter in the door. He couldn't close it in Haurchefant's face, that was too much. There were no footsteps, no good night. Haurchefant was still standing there, staring at him, but Claran didn’t dare look, didn’t dare let him see—

“I apologize.”

Claran’s hand froze. “For what?”

“Whatever I have done to upset you.”

Claran dug his nails into the wood. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

"There's no need to be polite." An edge slipped into Haurchefant’s cheerful voice. Claran swallowed around the sudden thickness in his throat. "You do not have to tell me, but I would like you to know that I am deeply sorry for whatever I have done to hurt you.”

_ Twelve _ . He was such a coward. He was terrible. Haurchefant thought Claran was angry with him. “You haven’t…” He tried again, weaker, his voice cracking on the reassurance.

Haurchefant saw through him. “You needn’t spare my feelings. Please, Claran, ever since I woke up you haven’t spoken to me, haven’t  _ looked _ at me." He paused again, the silence thick. "...Was it what happened at the Vault?”

The tears he forced back earlier returned with a vengeance. He fought them away desperately. He can break down  _ later _ . He couldn’t let Haurchefant see him like this.  _ No one could. _ “I…”

“It is. I am sorry for worrying you, but I don’t regret the action I took. To save your life, I would gladly—”

It was like a spear of ice through the heart. His head snapped to Haurchefant, vision blurring with tears. “ _ Don’t! _ ”

Haurchefant’s lips parted, blue eyes stark in surprise. The guilt was bitter on his tongue. He  _ snapped _ at Haurchefant. This was getting out of hand. He should stop. He should stop before something bad happened, before he ruined everything. “Don’t you dare,” he gasped anyway. His words ran away from him. “Don’t you  _ dare _ throw your life away again."

“Claran—”

“I  _ couldn’t save you! _ ” he snapped. “I pressed my hands to your wound, I gave you  _ everything I have _ , held you together while you  _ died _ in front of me, because I wasn’t strong enough! Because you tried to protect me, because I made a stupid decision and you paid for it with your  _ life _ .”

Haurchefant held his hands out placatingly, like he was soothing a spooked animal. “I’m here now,” he said. His voice was soft.

“But for how  _ long _ ?” Claran asked. “How long until I bring more peril down upon your head? Until I make another mistake and you have to suffer for it? I cannot lose you again, Haurchefant,  _ please _ , I still have nightmares about it every night, I still feel your blood on my hands.”

Understanding dawned on Haurchefant’s face, and Claran had officially said too much. Now that he uncorked the stopper on his emotions it all came rushing out in an unstoppable flood. “What use am I if I cannot save someone so precious to me?" His voice grew small, his shoulders hunching up as he curled into himself. He brought his hands to his mouth in an attempt to stem his tirade, but it wouldn't stop. Each word was a nail in his coffin. "I am not worth your life,” he whispered. His stomach rolled and clenched.

Haurchefant touched him. He reached out, slow enough that Claran could see him coming and step away if he desired. His hands, gloveless and warm, rested upon Claran’s shoulders. “Do not speak so lowly of yourself, my friend,” Haurchefant said. “I will not stand for anyone saying anything ill of you. Even yourself.” He smiled. His whole face lit up with it, especially his eyes, gleaming bright and cheerful. “You are worth so much.”

Claran flinched back, shrugging off Haurchefant’s hands. “Please don’t.”

“You are.”

“ _ Nothing _ is worth losing you. Not this war, not my duty, especially not  _ me _ .”

“You are my  _ friend _ ,” he said firmly. “And I care deeply for you. That you care so much for me fills my heart, and I would do  _ anything  _ to ensure you smile another day.”

That broke him. Tears began a sudden stream down Claran’s cheeks, dripping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. Haurchefant’s eyes widened and he came forward, palms cupping Claran’s cheeks. "Forgive me. Oh, Fury, I didn't intend… Please don't cry." 

He wiped Claran's tears away with his thumb, but more replaced them. Claran wept silently, staring up at Haurchefant’s face in dumbfounded shock. That anyone could care for him so fiercely, without remorse or expectation, never failed to shake him to his core. He was always the Warrior of Light, eikon-slayer, savior of the world. With Haurchefant, always, he could just… be.

Ever since the Vault— even before— his feelings for Haurchefant had only deepened. He never knew what he had until it was wrenched from his fingers. And here he was, miraculously alive, a second chance standing for them both. Haurchefant whispered to him, soothing with his hands and his words. “It’s alright,” he said. “I am right here, at your side. You are safe, my friend. I will not leave you.”

“Promise me,” Claran said. He reached up to clutch tightly at his sleeve. “Promise you won’t leave.”

Haurchefant gazed back. He had come close while Claran wept. He craned his neck back to meet Haurchefant’s gaze. “No force on this star could take me from you. Even if my body withers away, I promise, I will always be with you.”

Claran buckled. He fell forward into Haurchefant’s torso with a pathetic little wail. A hand went to the back of his head and pet through his hair. “I’m sorry,” Claran gasped. He grabbed fistfuls of Haurchefant’s shirt, pulling him closer, desperate for him. If he let Haurchefant slip away again, he might disappear. “I’m sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize.”

“ _ No _ . I love you.” It slipped out. Claran tensed his shoulders and buried his face against Haurchefant’s shirt. His chest ached. He shouldn't have said that. He may have ruined their friendship. “I’m sorry.”

“There is no need.”

“I’m sorry—”

Haurchefant gently eased him back. Claran resisted for a moment, unwilling to face him after his embarrassing outburst and declaration of love. He peeked upwards.

“Are you afraid?” Haurchefant asked. Was it obvious? Claran pursed his lips. “Forgive me,” Haurchefant chuckled. “I thought I made my feelings for you clear, though I never had the courage to say it directly myself.”

Oh. Claran’s mouth opened and shut. He should say something, probably. He tried to gather his thoughts beyond  _ oh _ .

“I had planned to tell you,” Haurchefant continued, “but it seems you’ve beaten me to the punch yet again, my f—”

He cut himself off. His eyes roamed over Claran’s face, his expression thoughtful. He grinned. “I suppose that doesn’t quite cover it anymore, does it? My love.”

Claran glanced at his mouth, watching as his lips formed the words. It sent him soaring. Sending his desire— or perhaps reading his obvious cues— Haurchefant stooped low and Claran lifted himself up as far as he could, his arms circling Haurchefant’s shoulders.

Their lips brushed together. It was soft and chaste, a perfect balm to soothe the ache in Claran's heart. Warmth filled him from his core to the tips of his fingers. His neck ached from the awkward position but he held it determinedly, pulling Haurchefant closer. Now that Claran had him he was suddenly starving for him, a desperate ache settling into his bones, the agonizing need pushing and pulling his limbs to guide Haurchefant into a deeper kiss. Haurchefant took it in stride, cupping the back of his neck, lips gliding over his own to create more bursts of light beneath his skin. Haurchefant parted his lips and Claran opened up for him eagerly. He moaned as their tongues touched, tugging him closer still, longing for every inch of him—

He craned too far back. He lost his balance and toppled. Haurchefant’s arms around his back saved him from the floor. He stared up at the ceiling, face burning, as Haurchefant laughed in his ear.

“Perhaps a change of location would suit us better,” he said. Claran’s blush only worsened when he realized they had been furiously making out in the hallway for anyone to see. He squeaked and planted his palms over his face, doing his best impression of a turtle. Haurchefant closed and locked the door, thank the  _ Twelve _ , and elected to scoop him up with one arm— which was simultaneously embarrassing and arousing— and tote him over to the bed as if he weighed nothing.

Haurchefant placed Claran gently upon the bed, like he was something fragile and precious. He wasted no time, descending upon him once again. Like this, Haurchefant did not have to stoop and Claran was no longer at risk for sending them both crashing to the floor. Their lips slotted together perfectly and Claran wasted no time, opening his mouth to invite Haurchefant in once again. Haurchefant chuckled, the vibrations of his voice buzzed through Claran’s skin and sent his head spinning, and teased Claran’s lips with his teeth.

Claran gasped. Haurchefant pulled away. Claran chased his lips as far as he could, slumping back against the bed when Haurchefant moved out of reach. He breathed hard. His whole body felt fevered, skin warm, arousal simmering hot in his belly. Haurchefant smiled at him knowingly and he looked away. He was already this worked up from some kissing. He pressed his thighs together to hide it.

Haurchefant placed a palm between his legs. Heat surged upward from the faint touch alone. He barely felt it through his thick sleepwear, but the suggestion of Haurchefant touching him sent him reeling. “May I?” Haurchefant asked. His voice lowered to a sultry timbre.

Claran shivered. He couldn’t stand to wait any longer. “Y-Yes,” he breathed, and with a slight nudge from Haurchefant’s hand, he let his legs fall open.

“ _ Ah. _ ” His voice slipped out, unbidden, as Haurchefant squeezed him through his clothes. He closed his eyes against the sudden burst of pleasure, biting down on his lip to muffle any more undignified reactions.

“Claran.” The tantalizing sound of his name in Haurchefant’s voice made him quake. “It’s alright,” he said. Lips pressed to Claran’s jaw, his neck. Warmth and wetness soothed over sensitive skin. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Please, allow me the pleasure of hearing your voice."

How could he refuse that? Haurchefant’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his trousers and wrapped with confidence around his cock. Claran couldn’t hold back even if Haurchefant hadn’t politely requested it, his pleasure taking shape as a shaking moan.

“Good,” Haurchefant whispered. He kissed Claran’s neck again. “Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”

The praise set him off. Claran’s moans lifted in pitch. Haurchefant’s hands moved in wicked ways. His fingers squeezed, teasing him, and rubbed around the sensitive head with a torturous, feather-light touch. Somehow, Haurchefant knew the best way to take Claran apart.

Teeth scraped against his neck. Claran jolted in Haurchefant’s hold. His hand worked in earnest, abandoning the teasing touches for a more gratifying stroke and pull. “Beautiful,” Haurchefant said. “How long I have ached to touch you like this, Claran, to bring you to such exquisite heights.”

“ _ Ohh _ ,” Claran responded eloquently.

“It’s better than I ever imagined,” he continued, and wasn’t  _ that _ a thought. Haurchefant touching himself to the thought of him. Claran shook with the effort of holding back the orgasm that nearly drowned him just from imagining it.

“F-Fuck!”

The curse made Haurchefant pause. When the friction stopped Claran whined weakly, hips bucking. He opened his eyes to find Haurchefant grinning down at him, eyes glittering with mirth in the low light. He was too far gone to be embarrassed now, too desperate, even when Haurchefant laughed. “I have never once heard you swear until now,” he teased. "Should I be flattered?”

“H-Haurche—”

Haurchefant’s hand withdrew. Claran whined again, louder, until Haurchefant placated him with a deep, searing kiss. “Forgive me,” he said. There was an underlying strain to his voice. “You are just too adorable. I wanted to have you—”

Claran couldn’t stand it anymore. He pawed at Haurchefant’s shirt, gripping handfuls so he could pull Haurchefant down. He stared into his eyes. “Then  _ have me _ .”

Haurchefant’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. Claran tracked the motion. “Are you certain? I am more than happy to—”

Claran tightened his grip. “Haurchefant.”

“Alright, alright.”

Claran reluctantly released him. Haurchefant straightened enough to pull his shirt up over his head and tossed it into a forgotten corner of the room. Claran’s eyes raked over his body, taking in the slopes of his muscle, the softness of his skin...

His eyes fell upon the stark edges of a brutal scar. Claran’s breath stopped somewhere in his throat. He swallowed, eyes prickling again. Red flashed in his vision and he desperately blinked it away. He couldn’t have a breakdown  _ now _ . He glanced upwards and found Haurchefant smiling, watching him with a saintly amount of patience. “It’s alright,” he whispered.

Claran took deep, steadying breaths to re-center himself. He propped himself up on his elbows, glancing between Haurchefant’s face and his scar. He lifted a hand and reached out, thought better of it, and pulled back.

Haurchefant caught his wrist. He guided Claran’s hand forward, slowly, inching up until the tips of Claran’s fingers brushed the raised edges of his scar. It was still pink and warm beneath his fingertips. Claran’s breath faltered and his heartbeat stuttered in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He placed his palm flat over his scar, echoing when he tried to stem the tide of blood before. There was no blood anymore. No Vault, no war. Just them.

“You did your best,” Haurchefant said. He placed a finger under Claran’s chin and bade him look up to meet his gaze again. His hand moved up, brushing Claran’s hair from his face. “I am glad to have spared you a similar fate. I wear this scar with pride.”

“Please, Haurchefant.” Claran leaned forward, imploring, “I need you.”

Haurchefant’s eyes flashed in a way that Claran had only seen during the heat of battle. Claran laid back against the bed, staring up at Haurchefant in a way he hoped seemed enticing. Haurchefant let out a slow breath.

They both still had their trousers on, but in the space of a blink Haurchefant had them both nude. Claran reeled as the night air wrapped around him and he shivered, pulling his limbs in close, but Haurchefant grabbed each thigh and spread him open.

“H-Haurchefant!” Claran gasped. He was keenly aware of how exposed he was beneath Haurchefant's prying gaze. Every one of the flaws on his body jumped out at him. Haurchefant’s eyes lingered on the scars slashed through his belly. Claran covered them with his arms. That was an unpleasant memory he would rather not linger on, especially now. “I…”

“You are  _ radiant. _ ”

Claran whimpered and covered his face with his hands. Haurchefant bore down on him, hips slotted between his legs to keep them open. He gently took Claran’s wrists in his hands and pressed them down to the bed. “Please, do not hide yourself from me,” Haurchefant said. Claran could hear the ache in his voice, feel Haurchefant’s need as intensely as he felt his own. Haurchefant’s cock pressed hard against the inside of his thigh. “Allow me this, Claran. Let me—”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Claran gasped. “Gods. Hurry.”

Haurchefant  _ growled. _ Claran melted into the bed. Haurchefant leaned over and tugged open the bedside drawer, fishing around blindly, still staring at Claran like he was fine art he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes from. He returned with some vial in his hand. Claran knew what it was, but the lips against his collarbone stopped him from thinking about it too much.

Haurchefant kissed a trail down his body. Claran arched up into his mouth as he discovered a nipple, his voice trilling high in pleasure as Haurchefant teased him ruthlessly with his tongue. The other received a similar treatment, the sensations enough to make him writhe in the sheets, cock aching and leaking against his stomach in desperation, but Haurchefant made no moves to touch him there.

He whined and Haurchefant showed mercy. The smooth pad of a finger pressed against Claran’s hole and he tensed in surprise for only a moment. Haurchefant kissed his belly, soothing him. He lingered around Claran’s scars, worshipping his skin, treating him with an overwhelming reverence that made his eyes water. Claran relaxed, and in the same moment Haurchefant pushed inside, he slipped Claran’s cock into his mouth.

Claran’s hips jerked up. It took a monumental effort not to come from the heat of Haurchefant’s mouth alone. He lifted himself up to watch as his cock disappeared into Haurchefant’s mouth, caught in a burning gaze as Haurchefant looked up at him from beneath long lashes. He cried out and Haurchefant placed a hand on his hip, pushing him back down onto the bed. He pulled his mouth off long enough to soothe, whispering, “It’s alright, I’ve got you,” before he descended once more.

Claran came alight. He released faint cries and whimpers that he had long given up trying to muffle. Haurchefant’s tongue swirled around his cock while his finger slid smoothly in and out of him, preparing him. The pressure of a second finger was dim beside the pleasure of Haurchefant’s mouth. Gods, where had he  _ learned _ this? He bobbed his head, stroked with his tongue, worked him to the back of his throat and  _ swallowed. _ His fingers prodded inside him, rubbing against his walls, and found the spot that made Claran see  _ stars. _

“There!” he gasped. “There, there—”

Haurchefant hummed in acknowledgement and took up a proper pace. He thrust his fingers in and out, pressed against his prostate every time. Claran’s spine bowed, hips rolling down of their own accord, chasing Haurchefant’s movements. “I c-can’t,” he gasped. “I can’t! Haur-Haurche—” Why did his name have to be so  _ complicated _ . “Please!”

Claran couldn't wait any longer. He was at the end of his rope. Apparently Haurchefant was too. He pulled off Claran’s cock and removed his fingers from Claran’s body. Claran shook with anticipation and need, aching fiercely. He whispered scattered pleas as Haurchefant slicked himself up. He kissed Claran’s shoulder as he lined up, the blunt head of his cock against Claran's hole.

There was no pause, no stillness. Their voices weaved together as Haurchefant finally pushed inside, filled him up with a molten heat that settled heavy in his limbs. He couldn’t  _ stand  _ it. Haurchefant hilted inside and stopped, waiting, hot breaths fanning over Claran’s skin.

“Wonderful, my love, wonderful. You’re doing so well,” he praised. His hips stuttered forward and Claran’s breath hitched. "You feel incredible, you're—  _ oh _ ," Haurchefant  _ moaned _ . The sound alone threatened to break Claran completely. He whimpered.

"Can I?"

" _ Yes _ ." Claran grasped at Haurchefant's shoulders, nails digging into his back, trying to pull him in impossibly close. Haurchefant asking permission warmed his heart but drove him insane. If he didn't move now, Claran might explode.

The cry he let out as Haurchefant slid slowly out of him echoed too loud around the room. The pace began like that, a gentle rock, a push and pull in and out, a slow burning sear through the marrow of his bones. It was so good to be close to him, to be joined like this.

Gods. He almost lost him. Almost…

"I love you," he keened. Haurchefant made a wounded noise. "I  _ love _ you."

"I love you too. Cl-Claran, I—"

" _ More _ ."

Haurchefant's breaths stuttered. He took a handful of Claran's hips, his grip sure, and quickened his pace. It was bliss. Claran tipped his head back and gasped for air like he was drowning. Maybe he  _ was _ drowning. Haurchefant pulsed steadily in and out of him. It gave blessed friction against his walls, made his blood sing and his toes curl. Haurchefant's hand slipped to the small of his back and lifted his hips up. Claran wrapped his legs around Haurchefant's waist and pulled him in deeper.

"Yes," he sobbed. It was so good. It almost hurt. "Yes, yes—  _ ah! _ "

Haurchefant stroked him in time with his thrusts. Claran climbed higher with every shift, every thud of his heart. He felt so  _ alive _ , so open, so full and warm and loved. Haurchefant kissed his cheek, then his lips. Claran tasted salt and realized, distantly, that he was crying. "I'm here," Haurchefant whispered. "I love you."

His orgasm crept through his limbs and came crashing down. It burst and blossomed with warmth and pleasure, curling in his hips. Claran's hips rolled down onto Haurchefant's cock, taking him in as deep as he could. Haurchefant let out a guttural moan and spilled inside, splashing hot against his walls, whispering breathless praises.

Claran came down slowly. His eyes were closed, lashes wet with tears. Haurchefant tucked his head against his neck and breathed. Claran took comfort in the rise and fall of his chest, the pound of his heart. He was here, he was  _ alive _ , and Claran loved him fiercely.

"Are you alright?" Haurchefant asked. His breath tickled Claran's skin.

Alright didn't begin to cover it. Claran sighed and settled into the bed, letting his limbs grow heavy. "Yes," he answered. "I'm wonderful."

Haurchefant chuckled and kissed his shoulder, "That you are, my love." Sleep overtook him easily, pulling him into a soft embrace. Claran dreamed of a bright smile.


End file.
